Her First Priest
by Ellered
Summary: Well met, said Cleric, joining her group. Failing his test, he became Chaotic Neutral, still he had her in the end. Rated M for mature. Anomen/FOC, and other couples for fun and laughs. Action, adventure and odd romance. Very dark humour
1. Chapter 1

**Part I: the Night with Anomen.**

They couldn't get to the Inn fast enough. Her supposed Knight in shining armour was indeed worse for wear. His face was smeared with blood from the last battle, and there were scratches on his once shiny, pristine armour of the heart with a plus three magical protection. Disheveled was his hair, dark and mussed up but oh, oh so very handsome, according to what she saw. She was very horny and couldn't wait to get to the Inn fast enough. Despite his battle scars and his dusty look, he kept looking her way, glancing towards her when he thought she wasn't looking. He was indeed as horny as her, according to the way he did look, with his eyes filled with dark lust. And indeed, just weeks before, he had been fighting this urge, fighting it with every breath; eventually, he lost, as were many of his internal battles. He had become her knight, forever clasped to her, in ways that he could not imagine.

So she took herself to the front, as always, leading the disheveled pack of comrades she called friends. The small gnome whose expertise in thieving earned them nearly more gold than they could carry. Luckily for them, they had stumbled upon a bag of plenty that managed to hold many of their items. Still, their precious gem bags and scroll cases were sought after, and they snapped up any from merchants come their way. There was the menacing dwarf, whose talents with the sharp axe helped clear any enemies that were in their way. He looked worse than any of them, with his bleeding sores coming out from his thick hide, the beard twisted from the dried blood, gray and red, sticky and filled with the late afternoon sweat. There was her very fancy looking bard whom she picked up at the Bridge district so early on their adventure, and indeed, she fancied herself in love with his songs when first he kneeled at her feet and called her his sweet lady raven. And indeed they had shared many nights under one blanket, one bed, where his kisses had planted across her skin, searing them and sending her ablaze with passion. But he was a wayward bird, as he claimed, telling her he couldn't commit.

She agreed, and their relationship was one of silence, backroom kisses and heavy petting. And only a few in her group know too well their silent and heady relationship. When she picked up Anomen much later at the Copper Coronet, her so called flighty bard was indeed jealous with inner rage, but he accepted the fact that his lady raven and himself were not the committing type. He had told her one night under the stars when the priest was whisked away by Bodhi's vampiric bite, that he would accept her relationship with the Helm cleric. But not before he had taken her again and again under the stars, burning her with his kiss. That was the last time he had touched her. The next day proved fruitful, for she had taken Anomen's body and Bodhi's dark heart to the altar and brought him back to life. The priest pledged himself to her forever more.

Today was an eventful day, and when they looked up, they felt thankful in their hearts that they were alive. The sky was bleeding purple, criss-crossing the atmosphere like a melting dagger and the clouds upon the dusty road dispersed, revealing a small little village with twisting trees that served as a small fort.

She was a Bhaalspawn, and everywhere she went she was feared, or admired, but whichever the case, her gold was welcomed. Her boots of speed pushed her forward, easing her mobility as if she were on a lofty swift cloud, and her friends, with the gnome, the dwarf, the druid whose sad eyes had seen much, given up much, and wanted nature to be in harmony around them, took up the rear. And there was the woman named Jaheira, another druid in the party whose skills also rivaled the fighter dwarf. Those two did not always get along, and the little evil aligned fighter would poke at Jaheira's barefoot and bear skin clothing, teased about how the druid smelled either like grass, or a day old wet squirrel. She would fight back with her own words; sometimes ignoring the dwarf's mean ways, for their companionship throughout the journey afforded them much time to get to know each other.

Aye, indeed, there should have been only six of them, but Quizza Bhaal managed to sneak in one more party member for her benefit, and damned the gods for interfering. So, the day was coming to a close, and the lady leader whose blood runs with the might of gods, forged through the near empty town, searching the townsfolks empty faces for anything, but received nothing but just a hair breath's acknowledgement.

"Let us go into the Inn first," barked the little gnome, "My uncle Spanky always says that a man can't go on without food and rest, water and substance to fill his belly and make his mind clear. Those are wiser words, especially when the smell of baked bread and sausages fill the Inn."

Indeed the gnome was correct. Their stomachs were rumbling loudly once the smell of fresh bread and cooked sausages assaulted their nostrils. Quizza almost fainted from hunger and Anomen, her knight, the man whose eager eyes lingered on her bosom, on her hips and everywhere her skin was exposed, held her fast.

"My lady, are you unwell? Come. Let us hurry to the Inn. For once, I agree with the gnome's words."

Aye, indeed, she thought in her head, now swirling with the heady scent of her companion's arms around her, holding her up, how positively female she must be at this course of their adventure. How weak she must look to her companions for the first time, nearly fainting from lack of food, exerting her body to the point of total exhaustion; ignoring those normal urges until finally, something as such a thing as the scent of food sent her spiraling into her would be lover's arms.

The Innkeeper was pleased to see a group of adventurers with heavy pockets adorn his establishment, for lately, there had only been those of the commoners in town with tight purses and greedy paws for seconds. And indeed, those passing through this village were not always heavily armoured with what obvious gold and silver, platinum and unique weapons these beheld in their possession. The Innkeeper's eyes could not see past the gold that shone in his eyes this very day.

Within the hour, the group had comfortably sat themselves around the round table, with the fireplace going, licking warm against their exposed skin, where their heavy armour lay either in their bag of holding or next to their chairs, relaxing against the heat of the fire. And the servant maids had brought platters of food, with baked bread, juicy meats, and cooked potatoes. Eagerly, the adventurers made their way to the food with zealousness.

When they were done, they sat back full, and the sounds of burps from the gnome and the dwarf filled the room. Anomen sent them a look of disgust, thinking to himself, no doubt that these disgusting ungentlemanly types knew no medium of decorum. And the bard settled himself comfortably by the fire, with his golden harp by his person; sing a lullaby, his grey eyes lingering over to the female leader of their group. Jaheira tried to be a lady, but she was never one, and burped as loudly as the other two. This did not surprise Quizza in the slightest, for she had traveled with the druid fighter since before, after Candlekeep, and knew the female possessed no ladylike qualities as one might see in a great noble house. Jaheira was, after all, a woman of the wood, a fighter and a spoke freely of anything she wished that was on her mind.

Finally, when the night was filled with stars, Anomen took up Quizza's arm, held her softly, whispering against her ear, for her alone, "My lady, if we may retire together, I have need of something of great importance to say to you."

Quizza felt the tingling of her loins, avoided the bard's looks, and continued on to their room without a backward glance of what her group was doing. She paid them no mind, as they had already acquired rooms of their own and perhaps wanted to wile away some of the late night hour to fall heavily upon their cups filled with mead and ale. They deserved it. They had fought bloody battles on the way here, and they needed the drink, the rest and perhaps, if they were lucky, coin enough to earn them a female or male harlot of their choice.

Tonight, Quizza was feeling lusty for the knight whose arms held her with gentle urging.

"My lady," he whispered, "I would ask you," he continued, the sound of his breathing filled with a kind of dark ardor. She watched as he lit the candle and set it by their bedside, then watched with awe as he lifted his tunic, away from his person, revealing to her his strong arms, muscled torso, and.....

"I would ask, my lady, if you find me desirable?"

"Oh...oh yes, Anomen..." She harshly whispered, barely containing herself from jumping him right there. But she knew she had to refrain from acting less than the lady he thought her to be. For he came from a noble family, and thought her above all other ladies, and to act less than, even act as the barefoot druid Jaheira would be an affront, perhaps to his upbringing.

"Then, may I please you, I am so happy you find my physique pleasing to the eye, for I want so much to satisfy you, hold you tight into the night and show you, as a man might show the woman he desires, how gentle and avid..."

She could barely get any breathing herself, as he edged closer, shadowing her smaller form, and his lips close to hers, touching her, heating up their presence with surprising electricity. Their lips touched, and in that instant her mouth opened by his heated tongue, and her moans served only to drive him further. He lifted her body up, sweeping her off the floor and settling her down on the downy bed easily. She could only imagine that her eyes were filled with a kind of lustful gleam and his, oh-his were very much hot and desirable.

She helped him pull her clothes off, peeling them off one by one-the scratchy tunic, the chain mail, the boots that helped her fly, her silky panties that were once there, but now discarded on the wooden floor. She was breathing heavily now, with his hands all over her skin, large hands cupping her heavy breasts, and now inching their way down to the valley between her legs. She had her eyes closed, gasping, horny by the light of one candle, and feeling the hot tip of his tongue touching her nipple. And instantly devouring one with his wet mouth, suckling like a babe that she had to wiggle and hold his head close. She heard herself mew as a kitten would, and felt his body close over hers. Her arms went round his shoulders, her fingers digging into his back, feeling the tight muscles there.

"Oh Anomen, this is....Oh..." She pleaded, and he drove into her mercilessly, hearing his grunts and heavy breathing, thrusting hard into her, and she felt the explosion behind her eyes, her mouth open-dry now, but he closed his mouth over hers, his tongue dipping inside her quickly, as quickly as his own body slammed into hers, stabbing her into the bed.

When it was over, their sweat mingled in the open air, he lay beside her, kissing her temple, pushing the wet hair away from her eyes. And he told her that night, how much he loved her. She turned her face away, and the tear that fell from her eyes blinded her. She didn't know if she loved him, but she just couldn't bear to be away from him after this.

"Hush, Anomen," She said, placing her finger over his pliant lips, "Hush, and say no more, my love, for tonight, tonight is special..."

"I would, if you do not protest, and if you are not so tired, for you need your rest, to go again, my lady, my love."

She did indeed need the rest, but her loins tingled and her body refused rest until he sated her lust. She wound her arms around him, and again he covered her body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II: the battle in the city down below**

"This bird is ready to fly!" he would say, while battling through the scourge of enemies, with his silver hair whoosing behind him, tied up in a somewhat precarious ponytail---he was indeed ready to fly. Then there was that blasted whistling. Seven or eight was it? What was his obsession with birds? Quizza would wonder even in the thick of battle, where she was slamming her dagger of plus five into the back of some unfortunate dark drow. Blue blood seemed to splurge out of her hand where the dagger had sliced through. She had hit the drow with so much force and strength that her enemy disintegrated before her eyes, leaving drow armour in the wake.

Still, she was listening to the bard's whistling, caught his silver hair flying up when he swirled around to land another blow with his long sword to the enemy before him, behind him, and with his high dexterity it was a wonder how anyone without nimble feet could catch him. She could. Her dexterity was nearly as high, though unfortunate still was that her strength was not as high. She was after all, a mage fighter, dual class with special armour that protected her from the elements, giving her magic resistance to magicks dispatched at her.

She wondered where her comrades were at---in the midst of all this, in this haze of the battle. Since all she could hear were the sounds of screams and shouts, wailing noise that pierced her soul. It was the sound of death, and death always followed. Her globe of invulnerability and the protection spell from normal weapons would soon fade if she didn't hurry and run from her pursuers, hide behind a shadowed door and cast her powerful spells. The drow never retreated, and unlike many of the soldiers and mercenaries she had fought, the drow never, ever had morale failing. They would die until the end. If there were one drow running from them, she would soon see that particular drow a discredit to their race.

It was then she caught the sight of Jaheira surrounded by several drows, and they were nimble on their feet, almost as fast as the bard who had managed to slice through several of his own. He was clearly sweating, where the small beads of perspiration lined his temple, and wettened his silver hair against that elegant skull. She couldn't, no-she just couldn't help Jaheira at this time, not when one strong fighter drow was on her tail. Following her as she tried to cast her shadowed door. And when her pursuer was just about to stab the blade through her vecna magician robe, her high level spells quickly went into effect. The door swirled like the shape of a white egg---magical stars it seemed as it swirled around and around to cover her in invisibility---or through a dimension away from the arena. Jaheira's screams were heard as even her hide armour could not hold her fast, and the shield she used broke like an egg as three fast moving drows used spells and swift deadly blades to stab her through.

Quizza made a point to resurrect the druid when all this was over, but for now---now---she must make her spell. And make it count she must. She casted the comets, the flame arrows, and time stop: a most powerful spell. When the spell went into effect, Quizza felt the world around her turn black and white. It was then that she was able to take out of memory -the spells that would save her comrades.

She was successful.

The spells casted cleared the way for them, and when the carcasses decorated the floors, bloodied bodies upon bodies, she would walk out of her shadowed door---like a Queen---queen of the bhaalspawns---or so the world would think her thus. Her long robe with the slit on the side revealing a long shapely leg---the world turned from black and white, to the colours of the real world. Where time clicked forward, and the sounds of falling comets filled the air. Dead where their enemies had lain, and only one casualty on their side.

The dwarf barked out loud, his left leg stumbled as he tried to rush over to Jaheira's fallen body, "That damned fool woman. She couldn't just use a bloody blade could she? Had to go and run off away from her protectors and use the sling."

Quizza looked at her little wiry evil friend, "Korgan, you would be reprimanded by Jaheira's tongue if she heard you right now---she is a fighter as well."

"Then why the bloody sling?" He grumbled, "Now look at her. She's dead and one of you has to revive the woman. Blast it all. I should be the one to kill her, blast that bloody woman and her tongue."

Although Korgan was a little evil aligned dwarf, with the fighting skills that was nearly unrivaled, he was in his own way---finding in his dark heart soft for the druid woman. Quizza knew this but dared not approach it to him. That would perhaps be an affront to his pride and besides; it was fun watching the two of them fight like a bickering married couple.

Quizza looked over at Anomen, who was her lover priest and with the resurrection spells. He was standing over the bodies, and gritting his teeth, "I stand among the righteous, and these abominations fill my heart with darkness---I would slay them all if need be."

Quizza rolled her eyes---for though she found his loving embrace very satisfying, it was his attitude for righteousness that balked at her internally. He had a sour temper, and was a very lousy loser for anything. As a matter of fact, he had so many faults she wondered why she accepted his embrace every time they stopped at an Inn or slept underneath the stars with one blanket. Was she so lustful that the touch of his large hands upon her naked skin made her forget how utterly boorish he could be?

Perhaps. Though, she did not really have many choices at this point. There was the bard who was her former lover, and dared not approach her due to Anomen being her current lover. The bard was a sight better in attitude over the priest, though his love making could use a little more passion in it. He nearly always slept too long during their days as a couple. There was the gnome, the dwarf and the stand offish druid Cernd. Although he was formerly married and left his wife---who died by the way---he was not bad to look at---if she looked past the smelly druid cloak that reminded her of the smells of old wood and dirt. Were druids always smelling of the forest and nature itself? At least Cernd wore shoes, unlike Jaheira whose feet now bore the bottom of some kind of leather skin.

So, while Anomen stood before his dead enemies, she had to touch his arm gently for she was not in the mood for one of his striking tempers---to remind him softly of Jaheira's condition. It took a moment, or two for him to adjust himself and nod.

"Aye, of course, I shall do as I must." He told her, his dark eyes upon the body of the druid. He did a little incantation and soon Jaheira was coughing up, her body shivering as if on the verge of death, and it was Cernd who canted his healing spell over her---and in moments she was herself again.

She was often surly when she died, so Jaheira's tongue only lashed out to her fellow druid, "I could have done that myself. I still have many healing spells left of my own."

Cernd nodded, "Of course." And as ever, he remained passive and in the shadows, the saddened eyes looking far into the sky---as if he tried internally to remind himself that nature should be balanced no matter what the cost. And it did nearly cost him his son, and left his former wife to die. Could Quizza judge him on this? She did. She had to, from a woman's point of view. Because what man just leaves his wife---but then---his wife had agreed, didn't she? One day-just one day-she would sit with him and talk to him about his past. They hardly had moments to chat, not when the gnome told many fabricated stories-piled high in the sky---while the dwarf laughed heartily; while the bard sang his songs; while Anomen had her ear at all times.

They had made a killing that day, where they found much gold and sold the drow equipment to duergar merchants that sold them to other drows nearby. They had to make haste, before the sun came down, so that they could rush to the surface and leave without more casualties. There, above the ground they could rest and revive the spells that were lost.

Even as they trudged through the maze to the surface, fighting their way from Yuan-tan lizards and mages, they found themselves soon after the killings---fatigued and worn out. Their incessant whining and heavy footing felt dragged and reaching the surface seemed like an eternity-until that door---forged like iron and bronze against the warm rays, opening up to reveal the sun's first kiss.

Anything drow had disintegrated long before, finding themselves exhausted, falling heavily upon the first clearing-where the trees provided a safe haven of rest-canopied them from any falling element.

"We must rest. Lest we endanger ourselves," complained the druid, whose brown hair had gotten mussed up---the dried twigs had found their way into the strands-complicating all the beads she had spent time making to decorate her head.

Anomen had been brooding, and walked away from them. Quizza watched as he had bowed his head down, his armour making the sound of clank and chink as he stepped by the trees. His gloved hand against the trunk of the tree, signaling to her that she must go forward and comfort him; although she didn't feel like it at all for her head swam with thoughts of rest---and be damned for his whining ways.

She was after all, chaotic neutral like Anomen, and not a very good girl in the slightest. Though honestly---she could not let herself become completely evil---even when she wanted to be a bad girl. There were decisions in her life that made her enjoy life---wanting whatever comes her way. Indeed, if anything---she was just like the bard. Or Coran, the flirtatious thief fighter back Beregost where she left him.

So instead she rested her weary body against the tree and slumped into a restful well needed sleep. The others would wake her if she was needed. She did not know that she was being lifted up later-when the sun had finally gone down. Quizza was faintly realizing that she was being settled into one of their knapsacks. Anomen had comfortably eased themselves into the sack where their bodies warmed and where she woke up as if from a drugged sleep.

"Anomen?" Quizza mumbled, her eyes fluttering, "What-how?"

"Shhhh, my love, sleep. Rest, or I may have to take advantage of my fair lady."

What sweet words he could say, Quizza thought with a sluggish smile. He was quite boorish, but he was at least sweet with his words, and instead, she whispered to him, quite frankly. "Words are nice; Anomen, but I prefer the physical kind of comforting."

He grinned. Very wide indeed, and she didn't realize that she was naked underneath the sack, and he had already discarded some of his clothing---his skin hot against hers. Quick hands roamed her body eagerly, and cupped her breasts, "Aye, my lady, I knew you'd want more than my pretty words."

"Anomen..." She mumbled against his mouth, "For someone who protests so much of righteousness, you are very very wicked indeed."

He wasn't listening anymore, because he was already thrusting into her, claiming her over and over again, and her words died on her lips, replaced by moans that she could not keep hidden.

Their companions---a little ways away, surrounding the camp fire, shook their head. The dwarf mumbled, laughed a bit, "Aye, I would want some meself if we were at one of those establishments that kept the best harlots for sale."

Jaheira shook her head, "I would disapprove of such things." And as if angered by the sounds of lovemaking not too far from them---or if angered by the dwarf's words, she picked herself up, took up her sack and walked further away from the group.

"Where you going, you blasted barefoot tree-hugging wench?!" barked the dwarf.

"To hug a tree, you despicable little man."

"Oh, I'll show _you _little, woman!" He picked himself up, running towards Jaheira.

The gnome sat there shaking his head, "That reminds me...of one time, my uncle..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Part III: The talk with Cernd**

"Nothing to it." She would say, husky against Anomen's neck---her breath hot---saying it in a kind of sexy way. Of course, Quizza the powerful bhaalspawn off the coast of Candlekeep and beyond was a very sexy woman. She took pointers from that betrayer Safana. Safana the half serene seductive thief, who urged her to take up the mission to find gold, treasures beyond their imagination. Only to find themselves parting ways when Quizza had to make a decision to keep her or take in another companion. Since Imoen served as a thief, and Coran was falling for Safana---it was an easy decision. Quizza wasn't about to allow one of her men to be persuaded by the likes of Safana. Then again, it was too late. She found that out later....

Quizza, the fighter mage, with an intelligence of seventeen could memorize many spells, much more than the mage cleric they met visiting the circus on the Promenade. But it was not to be rivaled to those of the dark magician who felt the touch of necromancy---Edwin the great. He'd call himself Edwin the great and flirted with her, in a way that made her feel rather creepy. Then, again, when she had saved the cleric drow with white hair---what was her name again? Oh yes-Viconia. Viconia and Edwin would whisk away behind a dark room; or dark cave and do very strange things. That lusty drow Viconia was insatiable, and it was to Quizza's disappointment that she had to let those two go. She was not about to have two powerful magic users go at it with unneeded distraction.

And those days were gone, weren't they. So now she was here. With a handful of her remaining troupe: The thief gnome; an evil axe wielding dwarf; the somewhat disheveled chaotic cleric whose words would utter righteousness; the druid female with leathery feet and a somewhat strong accent, the soft spoken bard with the harp on his backside; and lastly, the druid with the sad eyes, and longish hair that was almost unkempt.

But this morning, Anomen was giving her the attention she needed. And she loved it, because she loved his hands roaming her body, kissing her skin, and feeling the hardness of his body against hers. It was a very cold morning in the midst of the wood, the trees providing a canopy against the falling dew. Where her companions, or what they were doing, she did not know. But she did realize that her stomach was rumbling. Must she always eat? For sometimes, it was such a distraction.

"My lady, you have made my life everything. I shall always be by your side, no matter what. Through death and beyond." Anomen would say, whispering love words against her cheek.

Aye, Quizza thought---Anomen wasn't a very intelligent man, but who cares? He wasn't as intelligent and witty as the funny looking gnome, or grandiose and snapping with dark wit as the great wizard Edwin; nor was he as smart as the bard even.....in fact, Anomen's intelligence nearly came close to the big hulking Minsc. This gave Quizza a slight frown. But she wasn't supposed to care about those things, was she? She cared only for Anomen's touches, his dark kisses, and his words spouting of love. Damn, she thought grimly, her loins on fire as the priest's hands kneaded her backside fondly, pushing his body ever closer to hers---Damn, she thought again----with an even grimmer determination. If only she weren't such a lofty, chaotic female with the intelligence as high as any other powerful mage. Was she not a fighter too? Though only---such a small amount of her strength provided her the ability to take up the bow, short or long otherwise and land powerful arrows into an enemy's back or right between their eyes.

She barely heard Anomen's chuckling against her cheek. Turning towards her man, she whispered, alarmed, "What is it, my darling?"

"That damnable ignorant dwarf, and the smelly druid finally settled down." He settled his forehead against hers, "Do you not hear them going at it all night?"

Quizza drew her brows together, "Quite frankly, nay. As I was concentrating all my efforts on either sleep or on your wandering hands."

The priest chuckled against her cheek, kissing them softly, "They make a fine pair, methinks."

Quizza blinked, "Er, I guess. Though I do not know what may come of this pairing on the road ahead. We still have many enemies, you know. This could prove a distraction."

"You mean, my love, that _you_ have many enemies, because you are a bhaalspawn; therefore, making them our enemies." Anomen's dark eyes held hers.

Sometimes, Quizza wondered at his words, because she wasn't sure if he were saying those words as a way of aggravating her; or that he was truly and utterly a moron at times.

This frustrated her to no end and to make up for the way he spoke of it, she tumbled on top of him, her long dark crimson hair covering her naked breasts, her long thighs-strong and slightly muscled from all the walks and battles held her lover beneath. She gritted her teeth, her eyes dark with blazing lust, "Listen well, Anomen, your future is with me---no matter what!" She ended with a dark hiss, kissing him soundly, her tongue gliding in---mingling with his sweat--his essence, and their lips sucked at the other, the feel of his hands trembled to hold her.

And she drew her pliant and strong body down his, engulfing him in a cloak of wet heat, that he nearly groaned loud, his body shuddering. Quizza took him, rode him hard that morning-so that when it was over, they were drenched in sweat and he was left shaking weakly.

Over breakfast, the druid, lonely Cernd with his sad eyes, had tied his hair back like the bard---who by the way had whisked himself somewhere to relieve himself---made some berries over some flour that was left in their bag of holding, had sprinkled some yeast into the substance, did a few incantations and provided a somewhat druid-ish meal.

Quizza's long hair looked as if a spell of insects had nested themselves into the entwined bright strands, her yawn and stretched body indicating a good nights rest at least. Cernd had heard her approach and he motioned her over with a plate made from thin sliced bamboos. Cernd was indeed a very reliable and resourceful druid---since after all---he lived most of his life in the woods, making ends meet.

"What is it?" She smacked her lips together, stretching further, her arms up so high that her tunic-as see-through as it was-provided a very good view of her naked breasts which pressed her nipples against the coarse material. Cernd should have turned his head away like a gentleman but then again, druid men weren't gentlemen were they?

"You look very nice this morning..." He trailed off, his eyes still lingering over her bosom and down her hips.

"Careful, Cernd, your druid armour shows much of your pleasure to see me." She winked, settling herself close to the fire.

He coughed, saw that indeed his very manhood was hard against his elvenish armour; he swallowed and apologized, "I-it's been so long..."

"Since your wife?" Quizza asked, her fingers picked up a rolled up pancake filled with cooked berries. Shoveling it into her mouth, she chewed at it wistfully, tasting the different flavours, swallowing it whole, and smacked her lips together, "Mmmm that was very good, Cernd."

"Well, there were other women...."

"You were unfaithful?" Her eyes wide with pretended shock.

"Don't mock, please," He frowned.

She laughed, "Sorry, I've had a very busy morning."

"I heard." He grumbled, "Must everyone but me, the singing bard and the talkative gnome be lonely without a woman."

"Well if you aren't particular about gender, you could..."

"Nay, don't go there. I'm into women. Though I believe the bard goes both ways." He said, ending it in a hushed whisper.

Quizza's eyes widened, "Why? Did he come on to you?"

"Nay, nay, not that...it's just that....he hasn't been with anyone I know."

She laughed, "No worries, he's into women so far. He fell for that strange looking frail faerie like elf at the circus, remember?"

"Ah..." Cernd raised his brows, "He was interested in her?" He shook his head, "I begin to wonder at his taste. That elf was so annoying with her whining and crying about her wings..."

He stopped himself, "Forgive me...that was quite rude of me."

She shrugged, "I wasn't quite fond of her myself, the little goodie goodie elf faerie with her big doe eyes--- and that is why she's not in my group."

"Thank the gods, though I should be kinder, as every man has different taste from another. I just prefer my women to be a little more....robust."

"Fat?"

"Nay!" he squawked, almost like a duck, "I do like round curves, but not too much! Look at me, I'm a gentle man in the woods, I could not..."

Quizza laughed, "Don't worry, I'm teasing you." She winked, biting into another one of Cernd's homemade woodland pancakes.

"You are a very bad girl, Quizza, but I'm pained to admit that I cannot help but follow you wherever you go."

He said with a kind of brevity and intensity that made her stop chewing.

"Oh Cernd. You're just very lonely."

She reached over and touched him softly, placing the heat of her palm over his naked leg, "Strong, yet lonely Cernd..."

"Stop...." He groaned, "You're quite the witch too, Quizza. Did the blood of a bhaal-was he---no wonder..."

And she continued to bite into his pancake, until it was all gone, the dark blue berries staining the side of her mouth. She flicked out with a tongue to lick up the last of the fruit, her eyes catching sight of her lover Anomen finally coming out of his weak stupor.


End file.
